


Cooking for Six

by Demenior, neinlives



Series: Cuddle House [6]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:06:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demenior/pseuds/Demenior, https://archiveofourown.org/users/neinlives/pseuds/neinlives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassie decides to make breakfast. The others drift in to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cooking for Six

Cassie liked their new house the very best at dawn. She liked it the rest of the time too – liked the way the sun slanted perfectly into her room just before it set, liked the warm embrace of the living room when the weather outside turned nasty and the cool silence of the old wine cellar when the summer sun got too unbearable. She liked the small patches of herbs and flowers Ax had helped her plant around the house and the others diligently helped her weed, although Tobias was really the only one who remotely enjoyed it. She liked their fresh white walls and the beaded curtains that passed as doors in most of the house so Tobias didn’t have to morph to open them, and most of all she liked that it was _theirs._

Dawn lent the house a timeless sense of peace in addition to all that. Cassie could patter out into the kitchen with only the glow of the promised sunrise to light her way, stand sleepily in the kitchen wrapped in her grandmother’s afghan while she made tea, and then take it outside to watch the world wake up. There was a swing on the porch, and curled up on it with her tea and the silence, Cassie could really _think_. This house with the others was amazing – in fact, sometimes Cassie thought it was the only reason she was actually able to function after the war – but sometimes she needed a little quiet. Here, when the air was still wet and cold with night and the pair of mockingbirds that shared their back shed were just beginning to venture out of it, Cassie found the strength to begin to face the things that surfaced in the quiet.

The others still weren’t up by the time she’d finished her tea, which was no surprise – although none of them had to work anymore, Saturdays were still lazy days. Cassie wandered back into the kitchen to set her mug in the sink and glanced at the clock. Plenty of time before anyone would show up. She smiled. She hadn’t made breakfast in a while.

Cassie was just pulling out the last of their eggs, the rest of the ingredients for French toast and her mother’s famous raisin scones already piled on the island, when she head the front door click open and shut. Shoes clattered onto the matt, and Cassie knew from the pattern of socked feet on the hardwood that it was Rachel even before slim hands slipped around her waist. “Hey.”

Cassie smiled, half-turning in Rachel’s embrace to press a kiss onto the taller girl’s cheek without pulling her hands from the bowl of flour she was chopping butter into. “Hey.” Rachel smelled like fresh dew and clean sweat, her collarbone damp against Cassie’s back, and she knew she’d just come back from a run. She could smell the hay-like scent of the broad field of clover in her friend’s hair as well, and knew that Rachel had started adding morphing to her morning work-out routine again. Pride swelled within her unexpectedly. Rachel had been having so much trouble morphing without aggression since the battle, had been so bitter and reluctant when Cassie and Tobias tried to convince her she could enjoy it again. She was trying. Rachel was trying. “How was your run?”

“Good.” Rachel tucked her chin over Cassie’s shoulder, her arms tightening to squeeze up around Cassie’s ribs. “Those scones?”

Cassie nodded, adding two scoops of oats to the bowl and mixing it, making flour puff up in tiny golden dust motes around them.

“Mmm.” Rachel’s lips found Cassie’s cheek, her smile apparent through the light kiss. “Good. I’m starving.”

“You’ll have to wait a bit before you can eat these,” Cassie teased lightly. “You want to make eggs?”

“Sure.” Rachel loosened her hold reluctantly, stepping back. “You know I can’t cook, right?”

“You can cook eggs,” Cassie assured. She washed the flour from her hands, drying them on the edge of her shirt, and stooped to grab a cutting board for Rachel to cut peppers and onion on. The taller girl was already pulling out another bowl and the whisk, and the two of them worked together in silence for a while, sharing the square of sunshine that was filtering in through the kitchen window, so close their shoulders nudged while they worked. Cassie looked up and caught warm blue eyes watching her, but her friend merely smiled and leaned over to kiss a stray smudge of flour off her cheek.

Rachel had turned on the coffee pot before she started working, and soon after she poured her first cup they heard more feet on the stairs. Cassie looked up to find Jake in the doorway, leaning sleepily against the frame with a fond smile on his face. She smiled back. “Morning, Jake.”

“Mornin’.” He pushed himself up, shuffling over to wrap her up in his arms while he surveyed the mix of vegetables and ham going into the eggs. Cassie felt his breath tickle under her hair as he nuzzled the back of her neck. “You left the bed.”

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” Cassie laughed as he tucked his head onto her shoulder with a sleepy sigh, leaning onto her, and pushed him towards the coffee pot gently. “Go get coffee before you pass out.”

Jake mumbled some kind of comeback at her but sleepily obeyed, dragging the chair at the head of the table around so he could flop into it and watch them over the rim of his mug. Cassie finished with the scones and slid the pan into the oven, wiping sweat off her cheek with the heel of her hand, and pulled out the bread for the French toast.

Marco stumbled in just as Rachel was pouring her eggs into a frying pan, at least awake enough to go straight for the coffee pot. He poured himself a giant cup and leaned back against the counter, taking a long pull. “Oh my God, _yes_. Whoever made this coffee is beautiful.” He buried his nose in the cup again and groaned pornographically, and Jake threw the pen that was sitting by their grocery list at him. He leered at Jake over the mug, leaning more obscenely against the counter. “’m I getting to you, Big Jake? Need a hand?”

“You need a _brain_.” Jake countered. He held out his mug. “You. Fill.”

“Makes me all hot when you take control,” Marco drawled, but he picked up the coffee pot and walked over to sprawl in the chair beside Jake anyways. “Xena,” Marco declared, leaning his chin on his hand and fixing his gaze on Rachel appreciatively. “Those eggs smell divine.”

“No, I’m not making you bacon,” Rachel deadpanned, not bothering to turn away from her wok full of eggs. They had learned early on that trying to cook eggs for six people in a normal frying pan didn’t work – especially not with the way their boys ate.

“What! I wasn’t even going to ask that!”

“Yes, you were. And I’m not cooking you any because I don’t like cooking bacon. Cook it yourself.”

“ _Fine,_ ” Marco sighed dramatically, pushing himself out of his chair with a theatric groan. “A man works all night to provide for his family and this is what he gets,” he lamented on his way to the freezer. “No thanks and no bacon.”

“You don’t deserve bacon,” Rachel countered, hip-checking him lightly as he plopped the frying pan onto the burner beside hers and reached for a knife to cut open the package, but as he slid the frozen hunk of strips onto a plate to de-thaw she asked, “How is the book going?”

“Hit a brain wave last night. Got a couple thousand words.” He shrugged, not looking up from where he was very intently fiddling with the dials on the stove. “It’s hard,” he said softly. He didn’t have to say anything other than that.

Rachel nodded, scraping eggs off the rim of the pan, and bumped him again. Rachel and Marco weren’t overly affectionate with each other – they both preferred volume and violence to talking about feelings, but there was a special language of affection between them that conveyed all that without words, in friendly punches and snark-battles and really, really, _really_ hot sex. “Don’t burn my bacon.”

“Oh sweetheart, if you want meat from me you aren’t getting bacon.”

“Try me, Shorty.”

“I just might. Those running shorts of yours are looking mighty good this morning.”

“ _Marco_!” Rachel whacked him with the side of her spatula, and not lightly either.

Jake, still sitting at the table, chuckled at their inevitable horseplay, but his voice was low and warm when he said, “He’s right, you know.”

A blush colored Rachel’s cheeks slightly, but she turned to glare at her cousin. “If you boys want food you better stop talking about sex.”

Jake held up his hands. “Just saying.”

“If you want food, you better start helping,” Cassie admonished lightly, flipping a piece of French toast primly. She was set up over the hotplate, the stove much too taken up by Rachel and Marco’s ongoing shenanigans to be safe for three people to cook at. “This is almost done, and we need fruit cut.”

“Sure.” Jake pushed himself to his feet. “Should I call Ax and Tobias?”

Cassie stood on her tiptoes so she could see over to the stove, wrinkling her nose thoughtfully. “Yeah, sure. They can help with the fruit.”

Jake nodded, walking over to where the back door opened onto the rose garden planted by the previous owner. He stepped outside, shutting the door behind him, but they could still hear him holler, “ _Ax! Tobias! We have breakfast!_ ”

Jake came back in after a second, leaving the door open, and a moment later there was the rustle of wings as Tobias landed and the dainty clop of Ax’s hooves on the cobblestone path. The two of them came in, Tobias perched on Ax’s shoulder, and Ax closed the door with his tail delicately. {Good morning,} Ax said cheerfully. {We will go acquire our human garments before joining you.}

“Good morning.” Cassie leaned over and pressed a kiss to each of their cheeks, and Tobias ruffled his feathers, disgruntled. She grinned. “If you want, we need fruit cut when you get back.”

Ax nodded solemnly. {We will indeed assist. Tobias and I have already eaten together, but we will join in preparing food with you.}

“I’m sure you’ll have room for this,” Rachel declared from beside the stove. “Cassie made scones.”

{And I see Jake cutting strawberries,} Tobias added. The last time they had cooked together, Ax had been tasked with cutting the strawberries, and there had almost been none left by the time they started breakfast. It was well known they were Ax’s favorite. {Come on, let’s go.} He took off, winging through the doorways towards the cupboard in the hall where Ax and Tobias kept their clothes.

Rachel snapped the heat off, sprinkling cheese over the eggs and setting the lid over them so it melted. “Done. Want help with the fruit?”

“Nah, Ax can help.” Aside from the strawberry incident, Ax was actually quite skilled with a knife – his fruit always had that artistic flair that Jake could never really manage. “Set the table?”

Rachel nodded, heading to get plates just as Cassie opened the oven to get out her scones. Cassie moved out of her way without thinking about it, their bodies moving easily around each other, and stood up to scrape the scones onto the waiting platter. Ax and Tobias appeared, Tobias in his customary t-shirt and Ax in a silky button-up that Rachel had been unable to not buy once she saw it on the Andelite’s human morph, and moved to help Jake and Rachel respectively. Rachel smiled as Tobias reached past her to take the plates, kissing him full on the mouth as they transferred, and then crouched to retrieve a platter for the eggs.

Miraculously, Cassie and Marco finished with the toast and the bacon at almost the same time, and the fruit was cut and arranged by the time it was on the table. The six of them sat down to enjoy it, passing around plates and settling into their customary places: Jake in the seat closest to the island, Tobias and Ax in the ones by the windows, and the others spread between them. They had managed to find a perfectly round table, because Jake liked this the best – no one at the head, and all of them equal.

“What is it that you call this dish?” Ax asked in amazement, wide eyes reverently on the bite of French toast speared on his fork. “The flavor is close to that of cinnamon buns. Flavor. Flaaaavor.”

Cassie giggled, reaching over to swipe a line of icing sugar off his cheek. “It’s called French toast, Ax.”

He looked at it in amazement. “This does not taste like toast.”

“Well, its fancy toast.”

“So, what do you think, Ax-man?” Marco asked, his mouth stuffed full of eggs, and Rachel wrinkled her nose and leaned over to whack him. “Waffles, pancakes or French toast?”

Ax chewed contemplatively, weighing each of the breakfasts his friends has introduced him to separately. “I cannot decide,” he declared finally. “Each is equally delicious.”

“French toast,” Tobias declared, spearing another piece. “Hands down.”

“Pancakes for me, actually,” Rachel said, licking syrup off her fork. “My grandad used to make them when I was little. Reminds me of Sundays.”

“Hey, I remember that,” Jake said with a grin. “Yeah, definitely pancakes.”

Cassie smiled. “French toast.”

Marco sighed. “Unbelievable. I’m surrounded by waffle non-believers.”

Jake laughed. “Guess this means we need all three,” he declared.

“I would not complain if that were the case,” Ax said solemnly, but his eyes were twinkling.

“Every Saturday!” Marco exclaimed, waving a fork full of bacon dangerously. “We have to do this every Saturday until Ax has tried everything! Think of the food that we’re leaving out! Crepes! Hashbrowns! Endless possibilities!”

“Endless possibilities for you to decapitate someone!” Rachel threw back, ducking. “Jesus, watch the fork!”

Cassie smiled and bit into a strawberry, her eyes finding Jake’s, and she saw her contentment reflected in his gaze. She leaned back in her chair and Jake slid his arm over the top of it, and the two of them watched their friends as they tossed teasing insults and exclamations (and the occasional grape) back and forth across the table. Breakfast was always like this – loud and overzealous and full-on gong-show, but Cassie liked it. In the way that she liked her house, and her life here, she like this; their domestic mornings, their stolen moments. Jake leaned over, pressing a kiss to her hair for no apparent reason before reaching for his coffee again, and Cassie smiled.

She liked this, because this, too, was peaceful.


End file.
